


The Hunter and The Hunted

by smuttyscribbles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hunter!Reader, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-06 23:43:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3152726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smuttyscribbles/pseuds/smuttyscribbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dirty motel rooms and copious bottles of Jack don't help to relieve the stress of a hunters lifestyle, but the king of hell thinks he has the answer to your problems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hunter and The Hunted

The motel room is just as dark and dank as each and every one before it, with its smoke-yellowed wallpaper peeling from the walls and the Rorschach mold patterns that decorated the ceiling. The room smells stale, the polystyrene box on the table containing half a burger and a full portion of chips adding its own greasy aroma that makes your nose wrinkle. The mattress dips fully under your weight as you perch on the end of bed, pulling your brother’s old varsity jacket off and setting it beside you. You sit in the dark room, an unlit cigarette pressed between your lips and an open bottle of Jack dangling from your fingers as one day moves swiftly into the next.

You can hear the distant hum from the shower in the room next door, where Sam and Dean are holed up, the thin wall between you the most privacy you’ve had in the last three weeks. Sometimes you missed the solo gig; hunting alone had been harder, sure, but at least you’d had the chance to breathe once in a while. Pinching the fag between your fingers, you raise the bottle to your lips and tip your head back, letting the Jack fill your mouth before you swallow. Another mouthful and a half and you let the bottle hang between your thighs, the cigarette back between your lips as the alcohol burns your throat.

You let your eyes fall shut, your lungs expanding fully as you take a deep breath. Your body aches, in fact you’re sure it’s done nothing but ache in the four years since your brother was murdered and your whole life changed. You wonder if the day will ever come that you’ll be able to kick your feet up and relax for a while and whether you’d still be alive when it does. Not that you’re guaranteed much chill out time in the cosmic mess that they’re calling Heaven these days.

Everything was a disaster these days, the world has been altered so much that you can barely keep track of all the shit that’s going down, not without feeling like your brain was determined to burst from your skull. You’re so damn tired now, just months after your twenty-first birthday and your body feels as though it could fall apart at any moment. Even nights like this, with at least nine hours ahead of you that could be filled with restful sleep, and all you can do is sit in the dark and drink away your sorrows. The life of a hunter was far from perfect.

“You need a light?”

The voice is gruff and deep, it makes all the muscles in your body tense even as outwardly you make sure not to show any surprise. You slowly open your eyes, raising an eyebrow at the sight of the demonic Englishman sitting in the ratty old armchair in the corner of the room. He grins at you, raising his signature glass of whiskey to his lips and taking a sip. A snap of his fingers and the light above you flicks on, giving you a better view of him sitting there in his expensive grey suit, one ankle resting on the opposite knee.

You take the smoke out from between your lips and set it down on the bed beside you, taking another quick swig of JD before smacking your lips together, “What are you doing here, Crowley?” you speak clearly, your tone as blank as your face.

The amused looked on his face almost makes you clench your free hand, you’re usually so unaffected by the smart mouthed King, but it seems like you’re not up for playing tonight, the leash you’ve got your temper on, short and weak. “Can’t I visit my favourite human?” You sigh, shaking your head a little and dropping your gaze to the floor. “Rough night?” he asks seconds later, seemingly genuine interest in his voice.

You cast a glance up at him again before looking down at the rips in your plain black vest top, the torn denim on your knees that is tinged with red. “Not particularly.” The vampire had been an escape artist that’s for sure, plus he had a penchant for throwing you across the room until your body practically had to be peeled from the walls. You had definitely taken a little pleasure in separating his head from his shoulders after that.

“One of mine?”

“Not unless you’ve added a virgin slaughtering vampire to your books.”

“I have been thinking about it, quite an asset I’ve heard.” Crowley stares at you for a moment, his eyebrows drawn down as his mouth presses into a thin, displeased line.

You don’t move or say anything, you just look right back at him without giving him the reaction he’s expecting. You would admit to enjoying Crowley’s wit, his determination to make every situation as awkward for the boys as possible, it was something you would usually throw back at him given the chance. Right now though, you couldn’t bring yourself to give a flying fuck.

He shifts suddenly, standing and walking towards you with slow, calculated steps. You watch him closely, your body ready to move quickly if need be. One of his hands tugs on the hem of his suit jacket, charcoal grey with matching slacks, a black shirt and skinny black tie to boot. The entire outfit fitting his body perfectly. He stops when the pristine toes of his loafers kiss the scuffed ends of your boots, and thrusts his crystal tumbler of amber liquid at you.

“Here you go, love.” He says, “You seem like you need something a little stronger than that crap.” He snatches the bottle from your hand and chucks it across the room with a casual flick of his wrist, not caring as it clatters to the ground and starts leaking all over the already stained carpet.

You sigh softly, reaching up and taking the glass, ignoring the strange flutter in your belly when your fingers brush against his. “Thanks.” You take a large gulp, hissing when it trails down your throat like fire and settles like a ball of lava in your gut. You blink your watery eyes and blow out a long breath, licking a stray drop from your lip afterwards.

“What has you so down, darling?” Crowley asks, heading back to his seat. Another click of his fingers and he has a new glass of whiskey and your clothes are back to better than before condition, the sting of the grazes on our knees gone. You take another sip, watching him still, because although this nice demeanour was a pleasant change, the devil was one for games.

“Just one of those days I guess.” You shrug, narrowing your eyes at him, “Since when do you wear grey?” you can’t help but question, understand now why it had caught your eye.

The side of his mouth rises, his red tongue peaking out to swipe a wet line across his bottom lip. “Since I heard that it was someone’s favourite colour on a demon King.”

You hope the heat on your cheeks isn’t as obvious as it feels. The fact that Crowley had found out about one of your personal, minor, turn ons and had then proceeded to make you aware of his knowledge, irritated you at the same time as making you marginally curious as to why he’d go out of his way to appear to you in something he thought you’d find hot.

“All men actually, not just the demon King.” You informed with an exasperated sigh, not giving him a second to think he had stumped you, “And where did you find that out?”

“I have my sources.” He rasps, smirking still. “Grey works well for me, don’t you think pet?”

You stay silent merely because it’s better than agreeing with him. He does look good, great even, but you would rather blame your weakness for finely dressed men than delve deeper and discover that it’s more than that. Crowley manages to make you question certain aspects of yourself that any decent person would beg you to ignore. You had always been morally weak, even as child you pushed the boundaries of wrong and right more than most, but Crowley has the ability to shove you further to the edge without even trying. You’re well aware that the demon who calls himself King is just searching for the loose fibre of your reasoning, ready to yank at it until you unravel at his feet and have no option but to ask him to put you back together again.

“Why are you here, Crowley?” you ask again, “It’s late, I need to get some sleep.”

He huffs, rolling his eyes at you, “Sure you do.” He mutters sarcastically, making you cock your head in query, “Been a bit tense recently haven’t you? Not sleeping much, drinking a lot, being a notch more vicious with your kills than usual.” He pauses, most likely for dramatic effect, as your face forms a deeper frown. “You really should relax a little.”

“You’ve been spying on me?” Your voice rises involuntarily, you hand moving to run through your hair like it always did when you were starting to stress. You stand, feeling antsy at the thought of having eyes on you, and swallow down the rest of the whiskey in the glass, regretting it seconds later when your feel as though you’ve downed a mouthful of bleach that’s burning away at your insides. You move towards the round wooden table, setting down the tumbler as you listen to the loud, angry rhythm of your heartbeat in your ears.

“Now now, pet, I’ve been keeping a watching eye on you, just to make sure you’re staying safe. It’s not the same as spying.” Yes it fucking was, “You’re breaking, love, and I’m here to repair those pesky chinks in that rather delicious armour of yours.” His eyes roam down the length of your body, his teeth capturing his bottom lip as he makes it very obvious what he’s thinking about.

“Oh fuck off.” You spit, “How the hell do you think that you can fix me?” you force the words out with as much bite in them as possible, which isn’t very difficult.

Crowley takes a deep gulp of whiskey, letting out a soft noise of enjoyment afterwards, “I can give you whatever you desire.” He shrugs, “I find that normally works.” The look on his face morphs into one of such dark amusement that your fingers twitch towards the butterfly knife in your pocket. Not that it would be much help, but at least it’ll be satisfying to see his reaction to where you’re going to shove it if he doesn’t shut up.

“How about a steaming bubble bath in a tub big enough for four of you? Or a full body massage with warm oils?” as reluctant as you are to admit it, you can feel your muscles easing at just the thought of those things and longing lodges in your throat, so thick you could choke. “An orgasm or five?”

The brief relaxation you’d been feeling drops like a stone and your mouth parts with shock, “What?” you gulp, your eyebrows rising high on your forehead. You want to remove the look of smug satisfaction from his face with a buckshot or two.

“You heard me, pet.” He grins, spreading his arms out to motion to his himself, “I’m selflessly offering you my well honed services, since I just can’t stand to see you so worked up.”

Scoffing loudly, you shake your head at him, “You’re ridiculous.” You grab your coat from the end of the bed and head towards the hook on the back of the door, giving you some much needed space between yourself and the little devil. “You don’t do anything selflessly, and I’m definitely not selling my soul for a fuck, especially not with you.” You hang your coat up, blinking away the rush of whatever it was that had gone through you at his words.

“I’m not asking for your soul, sweetness.”

His voice in your ear startles you, making your heart stutter and sending a roll of shivers down your spine that has nothing to do with shock. You swallow thickly, collecting yourself, before turning on your heels to find yourself within inches of his barrel chest and having to tilt your chin up ever so slightly to meet the hazel eyes of his meat suit.

“What exactly is it that you want?” you ask, although you become aware quite quickly that it was probably the wrong thing to say.

Crowley’s grin is nothing short of predatory, “Just a taste of that sweet little spot between your thighs, love. Not much to ask is it, I’ll even make sure the bath is ready to sooth your aching muscles afterwards.”

Your gut clenches, a rush of warmth flooding through you. It had been a while for you, six month and twelve days to be exact, and so the slightest thought of pleasure brought to you by something other than your own hand was enough to get you stirring. It had absolutely nothing to do with the man behind the words.

Demon! The demon behind the words. As easy as it was to forget, what with the snarky teenage girl attitude and the lack of self control when it came to substances of the addictive kind, the thing in front of you was not a man.

“Go to hell, Crowley.” You growl, shoving passed him only to be caught by the wrist, his fingertip pressing firmly into your skin.

“Only if you come with me.” He smiles, yanking you to him until your chest smacks against his. He keeps you locked there with an arm around your back, holding you tightly as he brings his face within inches of yours, the sharp tang of whiskey on his breath as it falls warmly on your lips. “You know I can sense your desire, your arousal.” He purrs, his voice low, “You may try your best to keep it from yourself, but you can’t fool me.”

You can feel dread clutching at your chest, all your efforts to keep this one small fact from emerging amounting to naught. You shouldn’t have been so stupid to think you could hide it, not from the supernatural beings who had keys to the locks of every human mind. Crowley was one of the best at digging through secrets until he found what he was looking for, you had just hoped that he’d been way too busy trying not to be overthrown and killed to bother with you.

You narrowed your eyes, leaning all your weight onto one leg just in case the other needed to fly up and smack him in the goolies any time soon. “Shut up Crowley, and let me go.” You demand, your teeth grinding together as you try to control your breathing and force yourself to behave in the way you were supposed to.

Crowley sighs, his arms coming away from you, “Fair enough.” He holds his hands out, fingers spread wide in some kind of defensive gesture. He smirks, his tongue wetting his bottom lip, catching your eyes for a moment and sending a shock of lust through you that even you can’t deny. “I could take it all away, you know.” He adds, “I bet all you need to relax is a nice hard fuck and a level of rebellion to top it all off.”

A humourless laugh bubbles from your throat and you don’t miss the step he takes towards you, you back up once and smack into the wall, the cold plaster making you shiver. He knows you too well, you’ve discovered, he knows that there is a part of you that aches to be bad, that begs for it. He knows he’s appealing to that side more than you had expected him to.

“I’m a fighter Crowley, it doesn’t matter what I feel because I’ll just push it aside.”You warn.

He moves towards you again, braces his hands on the wall beside your head. His face dips towards you and you feed a sudden buzz beneath your skin, a hum that makes you tingle and thrum all over, your muscles easing and your knees becoming loose.

“The things I will do to you, hunter.” He smirks, “You won’t be able to get enough. I’ll bury my head between your thighs until you’re screaming. I’ll fuck you until there’s nothing left for you to give me. Until you’ve come so many times that you can think of nothing but how good my cock makes you feel.” His lips brush your ear as you slam your eyes shut at the images battling in your head. “Are you sure you can resist that?”

You’re not sure, you’ll never be sure, not with the way he’s making you feel right now. Knowing what he could do to you, how he could make you feel…the promise of release was so goddamn enticing that you find yourself on edge, wanting nothing more that to forget out everything but pleasure, for the first time in what seems like forever. Crowley moves in closer, pressing the length of his body against yours, crowding you with his warmth and his scent, his name slips from your lips and he groans thickly, stroking his cheek against yours, his stubble scratching you.

“You’ll be mine by the end of the night.” He growls, the words working their way into your fuzzy mind, burrowing deep and prodding at that section of your brain that you’ve tried so hard to lock away. It hits something immediately, something that makes you press your hands to Crowley’s chest and push with all your strength, sending the demon back into the opposite wall, a look of surprise on his face as he catches himself, but you’re not done yet. You lunge towards him, grabbing the lapels of his suit jacket and yanking him towards you, leaning up to slam your mouth against his before you can think twice about it.

He grunts, thick fingers gripping your sides as he pulls you closer, his lips rabid against your own. His hands slide up to your face, holding you to him as he kisses you back like you’re giving him everything he needs to live. He spins you around, pressing you into the wall as his mouth slots against yours, his lips determined and eager. Your knees really are weak now, buckling under the force of such lust that you’ve never experience before. Not ever have you felt this need for someone else before, this desperation. Crowley thrusts his hand into your hair, gripping tight and yanking your head back so that he can angle your mouths and press his tongue forward.

The small gasp that leaves your lips from the sting of the hair pulling allows his tongue to stroke the tip of yours and the moan the rumbles from your chest is a lot louder than you had expected. You kiss him deeper, trying to take control, your tongue chases his, slipping into his mouth and flicking up against his top lip. You push your hips into him, noting the hard ridge of his cock behind his slacks, he growls against your mouth as you press against him and thrusts towards you even more, grinding against you enough to make your head swim with lust.

“Fuck.” He snaps, pulling his mouth away with a wet smack, his free hand grasps the hem of your vest top and yanks, tearing the material right off of your body. You wince, watching the fabric fall to the floor and hoping you remember get him to fix it when you were done, life on the move didn’t allow for an extensive wardrobe. The hand in your hair tugs to the side, his mouth finding your neck as the other palms your breast through your bra. His teeth scrape against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine at the threat behind them and when they bite down with enough sting to make you cry out, you can feel the rush of wetness between your thighs.

“Crowley…shit.” your hands scrabble against his jacket, tugging at button before shoving it off his shoulders, hearing it fall to the floor with a dull thud just as he sucks on a spot below your ear that rips a pathetic high pitched moan from your throat. “Oh fuck.”

You feel his lips curve into a grin against your skin and know that he’s feeling ridiculously pleased with himself. “Oh you like that huh?”

His hands grip your waist, spin you around quickly so that your cheek is pressed against the wall, your hips pulled back slightly. Crowley steps right up behind you, grinding his hard cock into the swell of your denim covered ass. One of his hands curls around your shoulder, the other around your hip as he thrusts against your backside, circling his hips as he presses tightly against you. You brace your hands against the wall as he leans over you slightly, pressing his chest to your back and his mouth roams your shoulders, teeth finally nipping at your skin.

“You need this don’t you, love.” He purrs in your ear. Your bra disappears right off of your body, your nipples tightening in the air as he cups both of your breasts. He squeezes hard, pinches your nipples and rolls them between his thumb and forefinger. “You need to feel bad. You like being a naughty little hunter, don’t you?”

“Shut up.” You groan, reaching behind you to grope the bulge in his trousers. He hisses against your neck and grinds into your palm.

“Two can play that game.”

His hand slides down your stomach and cups you through your jeans, fingertips pressed against your covered slit with a pressure that feels so damn good that it’s all you can do not to beg for more. You rub him through his slacks, smirking at the groans and grunts in your ear even though you’re not fairing any better with the way his fingers are stroking you just as determinedly.

"For fucks sake." You frown, managing to turn in his hold. He’s smirking at you until you grab his tie and yank him towards you, slamming your lips together with just a little too much force. His groan vibrates against mouth and he wraps his arms around you, pulling your body right up against his as you devour each other. Tongues sliding and teeth nipping, the kisses are sloppy and frantic, almost painful. You sink your teeth into his bottom lip, tugging harshly and making him jerk from the shock of pain. He pulls back, staring at you with wide eyes as his chest heaves, his fingers rubbing at his mouth.

"Going to be like that is it, sweetheart." he says with a tilt of his head.

You press your tingling lips together, shrugging, “Might be.” you rasp, hooking your fingers in the gaps between the buttons of his shirt and yanking the material open, the small, black discs flying everywhere. His chest is broad, pecs dusted lightly with dark hair. You grab for his tie, quickly loosen it and pulling it off just so that you can push his shirt off of his shoulders.

He chuckles darkly, helping you out, “I like this side of you.” he says as you stroke your fingers over the time-faded tattoo on his chest, your eyes noticing the ones on his arms too, and for some reason you find yourself appreciating the ink a lot more than you usually would. “Want to see this side of you too.” he smirks, slapping your ass with a spanned hand.

He grips your hair, shoving his face into your neck again, his scruff scratching at your skin as he backs you up towards the foot of the bed. He shoves you down onto the mattress , watching your tits bounce as you land, arms out behind you to catch yourself. Standing over you, he raises an eyebrow at your indignant glare, daring you to react as he drops to his knees. Excitement squirms in your stomach as his hands reach for the button of your jeans.

"Let’s get these silly jeans off." He grins, unsnapping the button and pulling the zip down. His hands curl in the fabric on the sides of your hips, fisting as he tugs them down your legs, bundling the denim up into a ball and chucking them across the room as soon as you were free. 

He picks up your feet, holding them in his warm hands as he raises one so that he can press a kiss to your ankle, his tongue brushing the skin. He lifts the other foot and does the same, the simple action enough to make the muscles in your thighs tense.

"Hurry up." You tilt your hips up, trying to tempt him the skip the kisses that he’s still trailing up your legs. There’s an uncomfortable intimacy in the act that you wish he hadn’t brought into this mess.

“Don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re in charge here.” He deadpans, “That isn’t what you want after all.” He presses his tongue flat against the inside of your left knee and swipes a warm lick all the way up your thigh until his nose is pressing up against the damp fabric of your black thong.

His hands grab at your backside, pulling you to the edge of the bed, your knees falling wide and your arms still propping you up to look down at him. He runs his nose against your cloth covered slit, purring as he closes his eyes and inhales deeply. You squeak in embarrassment, one hand reaching to push his head away but he grabs your wrist and keeps it out of the way.

“Crowley.” You whine, “What are you doing?”

“You smell delicious love.” He licks along the wet cotton, tracing his tongue along the line of your slit and all the way up to the waistband, gripping it in his teeth and pulling, letting it snap back against your skin. “I’m going to have a lot of fun it seems.”

You can only watch as he slides your panties to the side and gives a pleased hum at the sight of your slick pussy. He casts a look up at you, that goddamn smirk still on his mouth as he leans in and swipes a lick along your folds, wiggling his tongue between your lips to tickle the sensitive skin within. A soft noise rises from your throat and Crowley presses forward, his free hand coming up to spread you wider as his mouth latches on to your clit, his tongue raging a war against the bundle of nerves, flicking and swirling. Your arms drop and you fall down onto the bed, your back arching as he swipes his tongue side to side over your clit, drawing pleasurable moans from your lips.

“You taste delicious too.” He grunts, pulling back to tear your panties down your legs before his hands spread your thighs wide. He gives your pussy a few languid licks, groaning as though you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted. “You’re not going to be able keep me away from your sweet, little cunt after this.”

“Oh fuck.” You moan, his words making your clit throb and the way his lips close over it doesn’t help. He sucks so strongly that yell rips from your mouth and your hands grasp at the bed sheets, the batting of his tongue against your clit making your stomach clench and your chest heave, bliss firing up in seemingly every nerve in your entire body.

“That’s it, pet.” He growls, the sound vibrating through your flesh, “You’re going to come for me soon, aren’t you.” he licks down to your entrance, dipping his tongue into the well the wetness there. He laps at your juices, slurping crudely in a way that turns you on as well as embarrasses you.

“Crowley…please.” you huff, the coil in your gut so tight that you’re not above begging for release. It’s been too long.

The way he chuckles against you makes you shudder, “That’s what I like to hear.”

He fastens his mouth over your slit, tongue stroking up and down so fast that your sure there’s some magic behind it. You can barely hold on, your hips jerking and your thighs quaking. You try to clench your legs against his head but his hands pin them to the bed. His lips capture your clit and he shakes his head, tonguing a spot to the left that throws you over the edge with a loud cry. Your spine curves off of the bed, your head tilting back as the waves of your orgasm flow through your body, so intense that it catches you by surprise. Crowley doesn’t stop, he suck and licks until he’s wrung every last shock from you.

“Good girl.” He smirks and you look down at him as he licks your wetness from his lips and stands, his fingers going for his belt, “Now come here and put those pretty lips to work for me. Get me all wet.” He toes off his shoes an undoes his belt as you sit up and slide off of the bed and onto your knees. “Right where I want you.” he smiles, unfastening his slacks and letting them fall to the floor.

“Red…really?” You raise an eyebrow at the sight of his boxers, noting just how strained they are over the ridge of his cock.

“Happens to be one of my favourite colours.” He rasps as you peel them down his legs. His cock springs out into your face, thick and flushed a dark red, mapped with veins that are bulging desperately. You almost moan at the sight, the guilt you’d been feeling slips away, replaced with even more excitement. You grip the base in your hand, smirking as he hisses, and give him a tight upstroke before you lean in and kitten lick the slit. “No time for teasing, love.” His shoves his hand into your hair and pulls you forward, forcing you to take him in.

You hum around the heated flesh as you sink down as far as you can, you suckle him, bobbing your head as he guides you. You stroke your tongue against the underside of his cock, nudging it up against the veins that pulse against it and laving it over his tip every time he pulls your back. The taste of him is heady and as much as you hate to admit, rather pleasant. He groans deep in his throat, tugging at your hair as you run your nails down his thighs, feeling them twitch beneath your touch. He only lets you suck on him for a few minutes, coating his cock with your saliva just as he had said, before he pulls you off of him and looks down at your swollen mouth.

“We’ll go into this more next time.” He grunts, pulling you up just to push you onto the bed again.

“God.” You sigh, pulling your back so that you can lie against the pillows. He crawls up to you, spreading your thighs again as he kneels between them, legs either side of your arse. “You need some manners.”

He slaps his cock against your clit, stroking the head of it along your folds, “How’s this for manners?” he asks as he presses against your entrance and slides inside in one long, slow thrust.

“Ooooh shit.” you frown as he stretches you, the sudden intrusion uncomfortable but he doesn’t stop. He leans over you, hands either side of your head as he continues to sink into you until his heavy balls are pressed against your arse. “Fuck.”

His jaw is tight, his face slightly red as he stares down at you, “Tell me when you’re ready, sweet, there’s no going back once you do.”

You glare at him, raising your legs and wrapping them around his waist, enjoying the slight wince he gives as you tighten around him. His head drops and you’re slightly surprised when he kisses you again, his mouth needy on yours. Lifting your hips, you roll them into him, getting used to the feel of him opening you up.

“Crowley.” You moan against his mouth, wiggling beneath him, “Fuck me.”

He leans back, grinning at you, “As you wish, pet.” He draws his hips back until he’s almost falling out of you and then slams forward again.

The force makes you gasp and he keeps the speed up, his hips pistoning, cock plunging into you hard enough to shake your bones. You grasp at his back, fingertips digging into his skin as he drops to his forearms, his mouth against your ear. He pounds you until you’re a whimpering mess, the ache between your thighs building again as he spears through your snug walls, hitting ever spot as if his cock was made for your body.

“You love this don’t you.” he pants, “Love being fucked by a dirty demon. Are you feeling bad enough, love, or do you need a little more.” He thrusts so hard that the collision of your bodies, the slap of your skin against his, actually stings.

“More.” You shudder, clenching your eyes shut as the pleasure rockets through you.

He leans his body back, reaching to grab at your legs and pull them up so that they’re resting against his chest, your knees bent against his shoulders. “I thought so.” He grips your wrists, holding you still as he fucks you. “Such a tight, hot cunt.” He moans, “So fucking beautiful.”

You cry out beneath him, so loud that you have to bite down on your lip to keep from doing it again. Crowley pulls out of you suddenly and the sense of loss you feel is epic as he flips you over onto your stomach, smacking your legs apart before he straddles your thighs and presses inside of you again.

“Make some noise for me, pet.” He growls, reaching over you and grabbing a handful of your hair, tugging sharply. “I want to hear those lovely sounds.”

He’s slower this time, his thrusts rolling rather than pounding and it’s not what you want. You wiggle your backside, lifting your hips to take him deeper. “Crowley, come on…” you whine, “Harder.”

“Beg.”

“Please.” You don’t hesitate, too desperate to be stubborn.

He pauses halfway inside of you, laughing, “You can do better than that.” he says, “Tell you what, if you beg all pretty like, I’ll fuck your pussy so hard you won’t have a choice but to come all over my cock.”

You groan against the pillows, still trying to push back into him. “Please Crowley…please fuck me, let me come…please.”

“Good girl.” He groans thickly, relishing your whimpers as he shoves forward again, picking up the speed just as he promised. The sounds of skin on skin and the gasps and grunts of satisfaction fill the room. He presses his chest to your back, one arm slipping beneath your neck, fingers guiding your head back a little so that his lips can meet yours in a sloppy kiss. He fucks you until your head is a hazy mess and all the muscles in your body are tight, your pussy fluttering around his cock. “That’s it, come on me, show me just how good my cock can make you feel.”

He slams into you and you’re done, your pussy locking down, squeeze him as pleasure makes your clench your eyes shut. He buries he face in your neck, thrusting through the contractions of your slick walls as you soak him in the result of your climax. He grunts against your sweat slick skin, his thrust turning sloppy as his teeth bite down on your flesh. Two deep thrusts and he stills, his chest vibrating with the noise he makes as he spills inside of you.

“Fuck…” he pants, “Fucking hell.” He stays where he is as you catch your breath then rolls off of you to pant up at the ceiling. You let the aftershocks peaks and fall, your body thrumming deliciously as you lay there, and when you open your eyes, he has his head turned towards you, eyes focused on your face. The soft smile he gives you makes your stomach flip. “Mind if I crash over, love? I’m beat.”

You frown, running your teeth over your lip as you weigh out your choices. You know it doesn’t matter what you say, he’ll just do what he wants to do in the end. You shrug, nodding as you try to ignore the niggle of guilt and the worry that the boys next door have heard everything.

“I suppose.”

"Good." He smirks, “Besides, it’ll give us time for round two."


End file.
